


Kiss Me 'Til You're Drunk (And I'll Show You)

by orphan_account



Category: Big Time Rush RPF
Genre: Birthday Sex, Drunk Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-27
Updated: 2011-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s hard enough as it is for Logan to keep James’ hands away when they’re sober, a hand at the small of his back or an arm slung around his shoulder, but add alcohol into that mix? It’s almost impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Me 'Til You're Drunk (And I'll Show You)

“James, come on, you’ve had enough,” Logan says, wrapping his hand around James’ wrist.

“No, I’m good. ‘Sides, it’s my birthday,” James says, surprisingly coherent despite the amount of alcohol he’s managed to throw back during the night.

“No, you’re not.” And Logan’s right; James is not good. He keeps trying to grope Logan openly, not caring that there are people around; more importantly, people with cameras.

James slips out of Logan’s grasp, heading towards the bar to order another drink. Logan doesn’t follow, staying where he is with his eyes following James’ every move. He knew it was risky to come out with James, especially once James is liquored up. It’s hard enough as it is for Logan to keep James’ hands away when they’re sober, a hand at the small of his back or an arm slung around his shoulder, but add alcohol into that mix? It’s almost impossible, James constantly trying to squeeze in a not so subtle grope.

It sucks because Logan’s only human, and his body always responds to James’ touch and there’s not much he can do about the uncomfortable erection pressing against the fly of his pants.

Well, he can, but James is being incredibly resistant, choosing another round of whatever he’s drinking over sneaking off to one of their hotel rooms. Which, okay. Logan’s not going to be the one nursing a killer hangover in the morning, so he lets James do his thing, taking the beer James offers him when he makes his way through the crowd back to Logan.

Logan stops after that, choosing water over another bottle of beer, trying to get James to do the same. He steps up closer to James, waiting for James to lean in before he whispers, “Drink any more and you won’t be able to get it up later.”

It seems to get through to James because he heads back to the bar, swapping out the bottle of beer for a soda instead. He gets distracted on his way back, stopping along the way to talk to whatever celebrities he comes across, his eyes managing to catch Logan’s from across the room.

It sends a thick wave of arousal through Logan, the hungry look he can see in James’ eyes, and he knows they won’t be staying much longer.

By the time James makes it back to Logan, he’s emptying the last of the soda, setting it to the side in favor of grabbing at Logan’s hand which Logan quickly shakes off, subtly trying to remind James that they’re still in public.

“What the fuck are we waiting for? Why aren’t we on our way to your hotel room?” James asks loudly over the thumping music, the scent of alcohol clinging to him.

Logan can’t help but laugh; James is such a needy, impatient drunk.

It’s late enough that no one thinks anything of it when James and Logan say their goodbyes, and they only get stopped a few times on their way out, people once again wishing James a happy birthday.

Logan can see how James is already itching to be away from everyone, rocking on the balls of his feet every time he’s stopped. They finally make it to the elevators and James punches the up button with a little more force than necessary, pushing it repeatedly when the elevator seems to take its time getting to them.

The elevator dings and the doors open, James and Logan filing in. Logan pushes the button for their floor and as soon as the elevator doors slide shut, James is on him, pushing him back against the wall and sealing their lips together.

Logan tries to fight it, but he can’t, James’ lips and tongue insistent against his own.

They’re jerked apart by the elevator dinging, signaling that they’ve arrived on their floor. They file out quickly, Logan pulling his keycard out of his pocket as they make their way down the hall to his room.

“Hurry up,” James says, plastering himself along Logan’s back as Logan tries to fit the keycard into the slot, waiting for the light to flash green.

Logan gets the door open, nearly stumbling forward with James’ weight against him. James manages to keep them upright, kicking the door shut behind him and guiding Logan towards the bed with a hand at the small of his back.

He grabs Logan’s tie from behind, using it to spin Logan around to face him, fingers inching up to work at untying the loose knot. His movements are slow and clumsy, alcohol impairing the way he’s trying to get his fingers to move. He gives up with a sigh and Logan chuckles softly at him, reaching up to remove the tie himself.

“Don’t know why you had to wear that stupid thing anyway,” James slurs, reaching for the buttons of Logan’s shirt.

“If you couldn’t get my tie undone, how’re you gonna unbutton my shirt?”

“Tear it open,” James says, already reaching for both sides of the shirt at the bottom.

“Hm, no,” Logan says, batting James’ hands away, unbuttoning quickly.

“S’not cool, Logan. S’my birthday, I should be undressing you.”

Logan looks at James, confused for a moment. Then he realizes James is implying that he’s his present and well, that’s kind of ridiculously cute in a funny way.

“How ‘bout you start undressing yourself?” Logan suggests as he untucks his now unbuttoned shirt.

James tries, realizing he has buttons, too. “Fucking buttons are the devil’s work,” he swears, huffing as he gives up and starts pulling his shirt apart.

“James, stop,” Logan says, fighting back a laugh. He steps up to James, popping open the buttons of his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms along with his vest. “There,” he says, smoothing his hands down James’ bare stomach.

Logan works at the button of James’ jeans, getting them open and the zipper down. When he finishes, he pushes James down onto the bed, kneeling down to rid James of his shoes before pulling off his pants, leaving James in his boxer-briefs.

Logan stands back up and James hands are on him instantly, pulling him in as his lips slide across Logan’s stomach, fingers moving to the clasp of Logan’s pants.

Logan’s hands card through James’ hair as James gets Logan’s pants down his legs, boxer-briefs disappearing along with them.

“Lay back,” Logan says softly, stepping back so he can finish removing his clothing.

James does so obediently, his eyes hooded as he watches Logan shed his layers, hand coming down to palm himself through his briefs.

“None of that,” Logan chastises, climbing up between James’ legs and batting James’ hand out of the way. He sits back on his haunches, his own hand replacing James’, fingertips resting over the head as his palm rests flat against the length. James tries rolling his hips up against the touch, but Logan’s other hand darts out and anchors his hips to the bed, effectively stopping the movement.

“Logan,” James bites out, sounding frustrated, but then Logan’s hand is moving, squeezing James’ half-hard dick through the cotton of his boxer-briefs. “Yeah, like that,” he gasps, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

The pressure is gone before he can even enjoy it, and Logan is smirking up at him, brow quirked as James tries to stifle a groan. Logan laughs, quiet and breathless, and then James’ hand is reaching out, pulling him up by his hair until Logan’s lips are on his.

His hand leaves Logan’s hair, trailing down to his jaw, thumb pressing in to part Logan’s lips, tongue licking in. Logan’s tongue is just as insistent, sliding over James’ as he pushes it back into James’ mouth, pulling back with a nip to James’ bottom lip.

James tries flipping them, only to end up with his arms pinned above his head, Logan smirking down defiantly at him. “Nice try,” he says, kissing the tip of James’ nose.

“You’re a jerk,” James says, struggling to free his wrists from Logan’s grip.

Logan rolls his eyes and releases James’ wrist, ducking his head to attach his lips to the sensitive skin of James’ jaw, the prickle of stubble tickling his lips. He’s slow in making his way down, covering almost every inch of skin with lips and tongue, and by the time he gets to the elastic waistband of James’ boxer-briefs, James is about to crawl out of his skin with the arousal burning through him.

Logan’s even slower in removing James’ briefs, pulling the material down slower than James thought possible. His lips are covering every sliver of skin revealed, up until James’ dick is freed and then he’s inching back, pulling them down all the way and throwing them somewhere over his shoulder.

His movements are teasing and slow, his hands running up the insides of James’ legs to his thighs, his hands framing James’ dick, thumbs stroking his balls. He licks a thick stripe over James’ balls, sucks lightly at the base, and then he runs his tongue up to the tip, swirling it over the head.

“I’m a jerk, huh?” Logan asks smugly, lips grazing James’ dick. James’ answers comes in the form of a stuttered gasp because Logan’s lips are closing around the head of his dick and he finds he’s unable to string actual words together, too lost in the sensation of Logan’s lips and tongue working expertly around him.

He tries to thrust up into Logan’s mouth, but Logan’s hands are a heavy weight on his hips, keeping him pinned to the bed. His hands tangle in the gelled locks of Logan’s hair instead, tugging every time Logan’s tongue passes over the slit of his dick.

James starts tugging at Logan’s hair, forceful and urgent, and that’s when Logan pulls off, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

James thrusts his hips up into the empty air, trying to get Logan to wrap his lips back around his dick, but all Logan does is trace a single tip of his finger around the head and then his touch is gone and he’s turning away, reaching for his pants.

For a brief moment, James thinks Logan’s going to up and leave him like this, and he makes an undignified whining sound, displeased with the way Logan laughs in response.

When Logan turns back, he’s got a packet of lube and a condom in his hand, setting them down on the bed beside James’ hip. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, rubbing a soothing hand along the inside of James’ thigh.

The touch there has James spreading his legs wider apart, shivering with the way it goes from Logan’s entire hand to just the pads of his fingers, teasing and featherlight, driving him crazy because it’s not enough.

“Logan, c’mon,” James pleads, a strangled sounding ‘mmph’ following when instead of touching him, Logan wraps a hand around his own cock, stroking slow and languid, making a show of it; he purses his lips, throws his head back, his eyes fluttering open and shut as he fucks into the ring of his own fist.

“Fuck, Logan, please,” James cries out, and he’s damn near about to sob because he’s so fucking hard it hurts and he just wants - needs - Logan to fuck him already.

Logan’s attention snaps back to James, hand falling away from his cock with one last tug, and then he’s hovering over James, hands planted on either side of James’ head as he brushes their lips together, quick and fleeting. “Tell me what you want, birthday boy,” he whispers in the small space between them, rolling his hips into James’ so their cocks brush together.

It’s so good, but it’s nowhere near enough, and when Logan applies more pressure to their hips, James has half a mind to say that this is what he wants, that he wants to come just from this, from Logan’s cock hot and heavy against his own. But then he remembers the packet of lube and the condom next to him, and with a bit off moan, he manages to get out, “Need you to fuck me, please, Logan.”

“So polite,” Logan says, his lips brushing against James’ as he speaks. He slides back, taking the lube and condom in his hand, situating himself on his knees between James’ spread legs. He opens the packet of lube and squirts it over his fingers, slicks them up and tosses the empty packet to the side.

James’ breath hitches as Logan slides a slick finger around his hole before pushing it in, and Logan barely gives him time to adjust before he’s working it in and out, taking his time as he opens James up with the single finger.

“More,” James gasps, swallowing hard as Logan adds another finger. His reaction is automatic, pressing forward towards Logan as Logan pushes them in, these tiny mewling sounds leaving his lips every time Logan pushes them in with a twist of his wrist.

“C’mon, c’mon,” James says, gripping the sheets tightly in his hands as Logan thrusts his fingers in hard, brushing against that spot, the one that makes James keen low in his throat, swearing under his breath until he has to bite his lip to stop from screaming out at the waves of pleasure shooting over every inch of his body.

Logan slides his fingers out and grabs the condom, tearing it open with his teeth. He rolls it on quickly, squeezing the base of his dick, and then he’s hitching one of James’ legs around his hip, lining himself up with James’ hole and sliding in.

The drag of his dick surrounded by the tight heat of James all around him has Logan ready to come apart in seconds and it’s kind of embarrassing. He has to pause and breathe through it, keeping still even though James tells him that he needs to hurry and fucking move already.

When Logan doesn’t move, James digs his foot into the small of Logan’s back, using it as leverage to fuck himself on Logan’s dick. That finally gets Logan moving, drawing back before sliding forward, building up a slow and steady rhythm.

There’s nothing but the sound of their harsh breathing, the slap of skin against skin. It’s so intoxicating, has Logan picking up speed, this rhythm of quick-quick-slow, the tip of his dick nudging against James’ prostate every time he fucks in.

Logan gets a hand wrapped around James, stroking in an off-beat rhythm to his thrusts, a sticky wet trail of pre-come clinging to his palm, easing the glide of his hand.

James is babbling nonsense, a repeated mantra of Logan’s name every time Logan’s thumb rubs over the head of his dick, and with a particularly tight stroke and a well-angled thrust, James comes apart, his hips rising off the bed as he comes over his stomach and Logan’s fist.

Logan fucks him through it, gasps out, “James, fuck,” and then he’s coming, too, stilling with his hips pressed to James’ ass. His entire body trembles as he tries to move, his breathing shaky as he finally slides out, pulling off the condom and tying it closed, letting it fall to the floor.

He collapses on his back in the space beside James, curling in closer when James pulls him in, their legs tangling together.

“Happy birthday,” Logan says with a smile, James’ eyes locked on his.

James leans in and kisses him, a quick series of tiny pecks to his plush lips. “Thank you,” he says, whisper quiet. He stretches out an arm and turns off the lamp on the nightstand beside the bed, a comfortable darkness settling over the room as he pulls the thin sheet up to their waists.

He doesn’t even bother making a smartass comment about how it’s past midnight, meaning it’s not his birthday anymore. Instead, he enjoys the last few moments of his not-birthday curled up with Logan, basking in the afterglow as he feels the last remnants of the alcohol and his orgasm fading before he falls asleep, Logan’s breathing already evened out beside him.


End file.
